Killian was tired. Simply exhausted and it felt like centuries, since he acknowledged this particular state of his body. And mind, for that matter. The map of Neverland could have been a map of New York - was that the name? - he would hardly notice. The letters became blurry, forcing him to blink again and again, in order to correctly read the map, let alone figure out some kind of a plan to save Swan's lad. Bae's lad. Emma and Bae's child.
His legs gave in and he decided to sit on one of the chairs in his cabin. He knew that sooner or later, he would probably fall asleep and find himself on the floor. It wouldn't be the first time. Still, he held the map in his hand. The same hand, in which Henry's fate was in. He was fully aware of that somehow terrifying fact. The weight of this mission and his role in it was one of the reasons he felt so tired.
"I bet saving the bloody town would be easier." - he laughed to himself.
It must have been all the hours behind the steering wheel and no proper meal since... nevermind. Or the sight of the Crocodile prancing on his ship, his only home, like he owned it. Or maybe his ribs haven't fully healed. Or the centuries of grief and hunger for vengeance have started to leave his system. Whatever it was, it was taking its toll on him. All at once, when he was needed the most. His constant need to laugh to himself only proved how much he needed to rest.
But his Jolly Roger was no place for that, apparently.
"I'm pretty sure this ship wouldn't sink, if you were to get some sleep, Hook."
This wasn't the voice he expected to hear. On the other hand, it also wasn't the voice he didn't want to hear at all.
"Your Majesty?" - he put the map aside and automatically stood up. "Can I help you?"
"You are helping, Hook. I just want to make sure, you will be ready to keep on helping us once we actually reach Neverland." - Snow spoke silently, but confident. Killian could have sworn, there was a hitch of concern in there, somewhere.
"Aye, that I will, your Majesty. But once we reach Neverland, we also need a plan."
"I know. But you don't have to do this alone. We might not know that land like you do, but we can help you. And we want to. We have two powerful sorcerers, who can handle steering a ship and-"
"I'd rather walk the plank myself than let Rumplestiltskin touch the steering wheel of my ship."
This very image woke him up. There was a moment of silence between them. It didn't feel awkward. Snow White looked at him with understanding, or at least, that's what he thought it was. He couldn't read her like he did her daughter. Not that well, anyway.
"Then I'll tell Emma to take care of it. You wouldn't mind,... right?" - Snow said carelessly. She just added a little bit of hesitation, as if she remembered about diplomacy. He was the Captain of this ship and she was just about to give out orders. Not that he would mind Emma standing behind the steering wheel. She bested him so many times. Gods only knew, if she could be a better Captain than him. Captain Swan. It had a nice ring to it, he had to admit it.
"Hook?" - Snow White's voice broke his chain of thoughts.
"I suppose you're right, your Majesty. One hour should be enough for me to recover. And I trust, your daughter will be able to handle the situation just perfectly."
Snow White smiled at him. It was a small smile and could mean many things. Killian wished for a second, that it was the Prince talking to him. His intentions were always clear and he wouldn't have to wonder about the thoughts crossing his mind. There wouldn't be any smiles to wonder about, to begin with. Swan and her dear parents...
"She will." - that smile again. She made a move as if she wanted to leave his cabin, but she stopped and looked at him again. "Thank you, Hook. I'm sure it must be hard to have your enemy on your ship. I appreciate what you're doing for us. For Emma."
Killian opened his mouth to say something, but before any words left his lips, the queen was already gone. He scratched the back of his neck and made his way toward the good old bed of his. He took his coat and boots off and layed on the sheets without even covering himself. He was about to wake up in one hour, there was no need to get cosy.
He couldn't recall, when was the last time he slept more than just a few hours and then woke up fully rested. If he had a choice, he wouldn't go to sleep at all - his rest was usually disturbed by the image of Milah dying in his arms or by new ideas to get his revenge.
His bed felt surprisingly comfortable. He looked to his side, where Milah used to sleep, to find out that it didn't feel lonely. Not the way it used to.
He closed his eyes , trying to replay in his head everything that happened in the last 24 hours. Between the returning pain on his jaw and the feeling of his fist tightening around the bean as he decided to come back to Storybrooke, there was one memory that kept on reappearing - Emma's face as he gave the bean back to her.
"For Emma" - he repeated Snow White's words in his mind. Or maybe even out loud, he wasn't quite sure. And as soon as these words left the quite corner of his mind, he heard a voice outside.
"How the hell am I supposed to steer a pirate ship?!"
